Rescribo Tempore
by leggy freak003
Summary: Harry is gone. Voldemort has won. Dumbledore's most loyal man makes a decision for the good everyone and sends back in time the only one smart enough to save them all from a future where the Dark Lord rules.
1. Preface

Author's Note: Greetings and Salutations, Dear Readers. Yes, I know that BDL needs to be worked on, but my computer recently crashed and I've lost everything I had typed up for the next chapter, so while I'm working on recovering that, I've got this lovely new gem for you. I've been in the Harry Potter fandom for a good long while, now, written for it for some years, and I haven't done the obligatory time travel fic yet, so here's my shot at it.

Housekeeping: I'm throwing this out there now because I'm posting both the Preface and Chapter 1 at the same time. Yes, I've seen the new Pottermore. Yes, I've seen the new information regarding the Potter Family. Yes, I know about Euphemina and Fleamont Potter. HOWEVER, This story concept was birthed prior to this information's released and several plot points hinge on James Potter's Mother being Dorea Black-Potter. That said, no, I will not be using the new information from Jo for the purposes of this story. Personally, I think Jo missed a chance by not making James the son of Dorea Black. But that's my personal opinion. That said, I know there are some of you going to ignore this and still send me a message going 'but Jo said!'. Its inevitable. Ah well, there's my piece.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related information, Characters, locations, and plot points are property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I just twist it to my own delightful pleasures.

* * *

Preface – Malfoy Manor – Late March, 1998

The Pain was constant now. The only way to recognize the day change was by the group of Death Eaters reveling in her agony. The Only constant was Bellatrix and her mad cackle. Hermione had always known the woman was mad, but the glee and pleasure she took in torturing Hermione was something beyond simple madness. There was an insanity there matched only by Voldemort's own internalized racism.

It had long since stopped mattering if Hermione screamed. They knew everything. Ron had talked to keep her safe, the fool, only to be killed and her torture resume. Voldemort had killed Harry himself after that. They'd left Hermione alive, best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, the plaything of Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix's only goal now was to see how long it took for Hermione to break.

But how could you break what was already broken? Hermione knew that her mind would eventually fracture and then the real fun for the Death Eaters would begin. Bellatrix loved to brag about how Hermione would murder each Weasley and mudblood. Bellatrix did love her psychological torture, but she tended to forget that Hermione no longer had a wand. Bellatrix had thrown it into the fireplace and laughed while Hermione watched it burn, her heart breaking.

Hermione could taste blood in her mouth as Bellatrix ended the Cruciatus curse for the final time that night. She growled. "You have a strong will, Mudblood, I'll give you that." Her cackle echoed. "It's been so long since I've had such a fun toy, but you know, even Frank Longbottom broke eventually. You'll break Mudblood, I promise."

Hermione shifted, pain blossoming through her left side, but easing the strain on the cuffs keeping her pinned flat to the floor by her wrists. Bellatrix led the others out, leaving Hermione alone with the cold and the pain. Hermione was infinitely grateful that wizards, purebloods especially, only really relied on their magic. They thought they were the biggest baddest thing out there, but muggles could do some truly horrible things.

That thought alone kept her sane.

She looked up when she heard footsteps approaching. Professor Snape filled her vision, and in his hand was a very familiar gold chain. How?

He sneered. "I'm almost impressed, Granger. A month with that mad woman and still you live." He looped the chain around her neck and held up the time turner. "How fortuitous that Dumbledore kept this from your third year, considering your trip through the Ministry."

He tapped the metal bands with his wand, three times before stepping back. "The locket in the cave, the diary in Lucius Malfoy's possession, The Ring in the Gaunt Shack, The Cup will be in the Black Vault until _She_ marries Lestrange, and the Diadem is in the room of Lost Things. Change it, Granger, because this world is lost."

When he finished speaking the time turner started spinning. Dual sensations filled her, both easily identifiable. Falling backwards as time flowed forward around her, and the tell-tale tug at the navel indicating a portkey in use.

Professor Snape had given her a mission, she realized. Destroy him before he destroys everything. He was sending her back in time. But when? Where?

Her last thought before darkness claimed her senses was that she would save everyone, no matter what.


	2. Pervenit Tempore

A/n: And here's chapter one. Let me know what you think. We'll see how this goes.

D/c: It all belongs to Jo Rowling and Warner Bros. I just warp and twist it for the giggles.

Chapter 1 - Pervenit Tempore (Time Reached)

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

June 20, 1973

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore knew a great many thigns on a mariyad of topics ranging from knitting to alchemy. IT could thereby be inferred that he also knoew at least something on the topic of Time Travel.

So when a young woman who'd obviously been horrifically tortured, dropped out of thin air onto his hearth, he took it in stride and summoned the school's new Healer and set about looking for clues as to her identity.

The first thing he noticed was the viciously carved epithet, mudblood, on her arm on her arm, followed by the bright gold time turner, which he removed from her neck. There was no identification on her, he realized.

A few diagnostic spells on the Time Turner itself revealed both a time setting and portkey spell. This girl had been sent.

The fresh faced Healer arrived and shooed him off as she began fussing with her new patient. Poppy Pomfrey had only been with them for three years, and hadn't been an easy three years, having to care for the resident werewolf. He wondered if she would be able to do anything about the dark magic this girl had obviously suffered.

"I don't know what monsters did this," Poppy said eventually, "But I hope they're found and given the Kiss for this."

"Now, Madam Pomfrey…" Albus began, frowning.

"The girl has extreme nerve damage in every part of her body, the lacerations were all made by a blade with a curse I can't identify, and her throat and lungs are so raw, she'll be lucky to breathe correctly, let alone talk, for several days. I'm magically inducing a coma so she doesn't wake up until some healing is done, at least to her throat and lungs. I don't even know how to begin with her nerve damage."

Dumbledore frowned. "What are the effects of the curse?"

"To cause the wounds to rot, fester, and eventually scar horribly." Pomfrey sighed, rising to levitate the girl. "I'll need to start her on some potions, Albus. I'll inform you when she's ready to wake."

Dumbledore nodded. He had owls to send and a trip to the ministry yet today.

* * *

The last thing Hermione Granger remembered was pain and falling. She knew she was in the past, but not when, and she knew this wasn't Malfoy Manor because she was fairly certain the time turner was a port key and the Malfoys wouldn't grant hospitality to someone with the world 'mudblood' carved into their arm. So where was she?

She decided a personal inventory was first on the list. Everything was intact, she noted happily, though various nerve groups were in periodic spasms. Damage from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Her throat wasn't raw anymore and it didn't hurt to breathe or move, so some medical treatment had been given.

There was a startled gasp a short distance away and Hermione opened her eyes to investigate, only to find herself bombarded by the sterile, off white Hospital Wing she spent so much time in growing up.

Hogwarts.

Safety.

"Oh, dear girl, I'm so glad you're up!" Came a woman's voice. Hermione looked and found a woman she could have sworn was the daughter of her former hospital matron. But then, this being the past, it likely was none other than Poppy Pomfrey's younger self.

Hermione tried to sit up, not quite trusting her voice, and found she lacked the strength. The woman made a noise of sympathy and flicked her wand, angling the bed so Hermione was upright.

"There's a lot of muscle and nerve damage, my dear." She said. "I've managed to repair what I could, but without a trip to St. Mungo's, I'm afraid all I can do is make you comfortable until the Headmaster decides what's to become of you. D'you have a name, dear?"

"Hermione." The witch managed. Her voice sounded rough, from her screams she assumed. Healed or not, it would take time to recover.

"I'm Poppy Pomfrey. I'm the matron here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, will be down to talk to you in a bit. She flicked her wand and fired off a silvery owl, a Patronus Messenger, Hermione realized.

"Date." Hermione rasped.

"June 25th, Dear."

"Year."

"1973." Came Dumbledore's voice from the doorway. Hermione stared as he approached. He didn't look any older than he did the day he died. "You shouldn't be here, dear girl."

Hermione scowled. "If you knew anything of my time, you wouldn't be saying that." She coughed violently, prompting Pomfrey to pass her a glass of water.

"Slowly, dear." The Matron cautioned.

"And why, pray tell, do you think that?" Dumbledore asked. "Time is not a toy."

"I didn't volunteer for this." Hermione snarled. "I was sent, against my will." She felt the spasm in her leg react violently to her temper and cried out.

"Headmaster!" Pomfrey began but Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Why were you sent?" he asked.

"To change it." Hermione told him through gritted teeth. "Because we lose this war. In 20 years he'll be more powerful than you can imagine." Her voice was going more hoarse, almost a whisper, as pain tore through her body. "He'll kill the one prophesized to stop him and he'll win."

"Why send you?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Because I'm the only one left who knows about his Horcruxes _able_ to come." Hermione was panting now, in rage and in pain.

Dumbledore went pale. "No."

"Yes." It was barely a whisper, but it held the weight of everything.

He pulled a vial out of the pocket of his robes and handed it to Poppy. "Administer this. It will abate the nerve spasms for now. Bring her up to my office when you've finished. We have much to discuss, if her mission is to succeed."

Pomfrey nodded and took the vial. Dumbledore left, clearly and thoroughly shell shocked. Hermione took the potions given, even one given to help with her voice. Pomfrey then helped her to dress and led her up to Dumbledore's office behind the Stone Griffin.

She sat down heavily across from the headmaster with a scowl on her face. He looked grim as she'd ever seen him.

"I must know." He said. "What they are. Where they are."

"There are only five in this time." Hermione said softly. "A diary from when he was 16 that he will at some point place in the hands of Lucius Malfoy. A cup once belonging to Helga Hufflepuff he will give to Bellatrix Black. I've been informed it will be in the Black Family vaults until she marries Rodolphus Lestrange. A ring that belonged to his maternal family that is in the Gaunt Shack, and the locket of Salazar Slytherin which has been placed in a cave I'm told he visited as a young school boy. Lastly, the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, which is presently in this very castle, provided he's come to ask you for a job."

"Such important historical items…" Pomfrey whispered.

"My friend said he fancied himself a child of Hogwarts. He's also a blood descendant of Salazar Slytherin." Hermione said. "He chose his vessels accordingly."

"it is also safe to assume that the Locket and Ring are protected by enchantments and curses most foul." Dumbledore said.

"The Locket is protected by a lake of Infiri and a potion that must be drunk for it to vanish." Hermione said. "The Ring by a dark cruse that slowly drains the life and vitality of a person."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will begin the search, then. The easiest first, I think."

"On the seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Pass the wall three times asking for 'The Room of where all things are hidden'. It will take a great deal of time to search the room. It's quite vast."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll contact you when I've found it. Now, for the matter of your new place in this world …" He waved his hand at the door, admitting a very smart looking wizard, obviously from the ministry.

The red hair was a dead giveaway of his identity.

"Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, confused.

"Yes, Sir." Arthur Weasley said, smiling. Hermione thought he was rather handsome in his youth. "I received your owl about a … er … special arrival."

Both Hermione and Dumbledore shared a confused look. Dumbledore motioned for Arthur to come forward. The man took the empty seat next to Hermione, fumbling with his paperwork.

"Arthur, I was under the impression that you worked for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office." Dumbledore said.

"Oh, I do!" Arthur said. "And it's usually exactly what the name implies, but we're so innocuous that we have another purpose. We handle the reintegration of time travelers. The information they carry is so sensitive that it can't be trusted to the Department of Mysteries. We're only interested in the care of the Traveler. Not what they have to offer us."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Then we're glad for your arrival. Miss Granger is in need of a history and a home."

Arthur nodded and started filling out paperwork. "I'll need some information from you, Miss Granger, and unfortunately some of it will sound rather callous."

"It's quite alright." Hermione said.

She answered questions about her background, her blood status, and her educational history. Some of it was rather personal, but Hermione understood the necessity of the thoroughness. IN the end of the interview, Dumbledore looked thoroughly perplexed. Arthur was stunned at what he'd heard but had dutifully filled out the paperwork.

Arthur was silent for a long minute, scratching things out on the paperwork. He brushed the feathered end of this quill against his chin.

"You said you have a mission." Arthur said. "I think that, because it will be some time since anything more than research can be done, we might want to consider the application of Age Less."

"I had considered it." Dumbledore said. "Especially in light of the extensive damage as a result of her torture."

Arthur nodded. "I was actually thinking younger. Can you give us an idea of any key players you may need to interact with?"

Hermione thought for a long moment. "A quartet of Gryffindor boys that will call themselves The Marauders." She said. "James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew."

"Those boys are Third Years." Dumbledore said, folding his fingers. "That's quite a de-aging for a young woman, Hermione."

"Regardless, it's James Potter's future child prophesized to stop Voldemort." Hermione said, noting that Arthur didn't jump. "If I fail, it will be up to him."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand."

Arthur finished his paperwork and closed the file with a big grin. "Papers should be in order tomorrow. Of course this will be handled with the utmost discretion. I think in this case we're going to move forward with an 'orphaned muggleborn' story, as Miss Granger will be under age. As such, I believe we must also consider placement with a wizard family."

"I have just the couple in mind." Dumbledore said, smirking and looking rather self-satisfied.

Arthur stood and smiled, holding a hand out to Hermione. She took it hesitantly and gave him a warm smile.

"How many children do you have, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer.

"Two." Arthur said.

Hermione's smile widened. "William and Charles. I'd love to get to know you and Molly in this timeline, as well."

Arthur beamed. "That would be lovely, Hermione." He left with a spring in his step and Hermione focused her tired gaze on Dumbledore.

"Poppy will take you back to the Hospital Wing and give you a potion called Age Less." Albus explained. "This potion doesn't just de-age you. It completely reverses your biology. All of your memories will be intact, but you'll _be_ 13 again."

"I was using a time turner to get to my extra classes at 13, Professor." Hermione informed him with no small amount of cheek.

Dumbledore blinked and waved them off, and Hermione was led back to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey made her comfortable before dashing off, Hermione assumed to fetch this Ageless Potions.

She thought she must have drifted off because the next thing she knew, Madam Pomfrey was back with a Healer in a St. Mungo's uniform.

"Just relax, Dear." Pomfrey soothed. "They need to see the extent of the damage."

The St. Mungo's healer gave a whistle. "I don't know how you're sane or alive, Girly. You'll get your potion."

"I'm assuming that the damage won't return when I reach this age again?" Hermione asked.

"Nah." The healer laughed. "You'll age as you should, provided you don't suffer this again. You'll want to be careful though, even with the potion, the brain remembers. Avoid the Cruciatus Curse if you value your sanity."

Pomfrey and the Healer exchanged a few words and a vial of clear potion was handed over. Pomfrey came back with a sigh. "Thankfully, they don't ask too many questions about how far. Here you are, Dear. Now, to do this, I need 6 drops of blood, magically consented, to set the age."

"Only six?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Don't be impertinent." Pomfrey chided. "One of each year regressed."

Hermione grimaced, remembering her 13 year old body. All buck-toothed and bushy haired. "Goody." She sat up straighter and took a lancet from Pomfrey. "I, Hermione Jean Granger, Do upon my Magic authorize the use of 6 drops of my life's blood for this potion, so that I may regress in age to my 13th year. As I will, so shall it be." She cut her finger and allowed the amount of blood necessary to fall into the potion. The Clear liquid turned scarlet and faded to blue. She threw it back like a shot, grimacing at the coppery taste. She felt lethargic after a moment and leaned back on her pillows.

Madam Pomfrey collected her tools as Hermione curled up on her side, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. The de-aging had already started, if the bagginess of her clothes were any indication. She sent a messenger Patronus to Dumbledore, informing him of her condition.

* * *

Dumbledore was just outside the Potter Estate when he received Poppy's Patronus. He certainly wasn't about to let the world this poor girl described come to pass. He heard the distant barking of the Potter's two massive Great Danes and smiled to himself as the door opened to reveal a thirteen year old James Potter, all messy hair and bespectacled hazel eyes. Beside him was the stricken faced Sirius Black. Both of whom were decidedly nervous.

"P-Professor Dumbledore?" James asked. "What can we do for you?"

"I must speak with your parents, Mr. Potter." He said, slightly struck that these young pranksters had such large roles in the coming events, should Hermione fail. "Are they available?"

"I think so." James said slowly. "This isn't about us, is it, sir?"

"Not this time, Dear Boy." Dumbledore said, thoroughly amused.

The boys opened the door wider and let Dumbledore in. "Mum!" James yelled. "Professor Dumbledore is here! Sirius and I are headed out!"

"You behave for Mrs. Lupin, James Charlus Potter, or you won't see your broom till school starts." Came a sharp woman's voice from deeper in the house.

James winced and ducked into the fireplace in the foyer. "Lupine Den." He called. Sirius followed in rapid succession, leaving Dumbledore to admire the house around him.

The Potter Manor was crafted with an understated splendor directly out of the Victorian era, giving Dumbledore a sense of Nostalgia. Wide open windows, hand carved hardwood and a beautiful ornate wall papers decorated the structure in a way that made some modern manors seem cold.

Dumbledore was studying the mantel on the foyer fireplace, obviously their floo connection, when a regal dark haired woman with blue eyes stepped into the room. Dorea Potter was certainly a credit to her bloodline. "Albus," She greeted much more warmly than she'd reprimanded her son, "Lovely to see you. What brings you by? Certainly not the boys."

"No, Dorea." Dumbledore said, following her into the receiving parlor where her husband, Charlus Potter, joined them with a smile and tea service. "Personally, I find their antics refreshing. A school year can get terribly dull. So long as no one takes injury, detentions will continue to suffice."

"I see." Dorea said, "Then what can we do for you, Albus?"

Dumbledore took a moment to collect his thoughts, deciding best how to explain what he was asking. "I have a young girl that has recently come into the care of my staff. We've already informed the Ministry, and her paperwork should be in order tomorrow morning making her a ward of the Ministry. Officially, she's a recently orphaned muggleborn. Her caseworker and I feel it would be safer to put her in a proper wizarding home with people the Light can trust."

Charlus and Dorea shared a look. "Unofficially?" Charlus asked.

"Lets just say she possess some rather delicate information." Dumbledore said slowly.

Dorea's eyes widened. "Albus, where is she from?"

"More like when." Dumbledore said.

The Potters sat back in their seats, dumbfounded by this information. "She appeared in my office in possession of a Time Turner, no wand, and information. She had a debilitating amount of nerve damage."

"Torture?" Dorea asked breathlessly.

"The Cruciatus Curse." Dumbledore confirmed. He took a deep breath. If he couldn't trust Charlus Potter, he could trust no one. "She was the plaything of Voldemort's followers in her time, where she claims he is vastly stronger than he is now. She claims to have the means to end this war before it really begins, and I'm inclined to believe her. She's confirmed a suspicion I've had for a few years now, and with the amount of damage that was done to her person, she has no reason to lie."

Charlus was nodding. Dorea had her hands over her mouth, horror written on her face. She looked at her husband with wide blue eyes, frosting with determination and Charlus knew that he had no other choice.

"Of course we'll take her, Albus." He said, smiling adoringly at his wife. "I say, my wife would have my head if I considered any alternative. How old is the girl?"

"She'll be 13 when she wakes from the healing sleep induced by the Age Less potion she was given." Dumbledore said, smiling softly. "It's a matter of her own protection. She was 19 when she arrived. She'll be attending Hogwarts in September."

Dorea smiled. "Oh, James will simply love this." She clapped her hands together. "How soon can we bring her home?" she asked eagerly.

"Poppy believes that she'll wake either the 27th or 28th." Dumbledore told her, pleased with the outcome.

"Excellent." Dorea turned to Charlus. "Wards, paperwork, banking. I'm going to redecorate one of the rooms in James' wing for her. Afterwards, I'm off to Diagon Alley and Muggle London."

Charlus nodded and waved her off. Dorea kissed him on the cheek and gave a half curtsey to Dumbledore before she took off into the recesses of the house to do her self-imposed chores. He turned to Dumbledore and gave the man a firm look. "So what's the rest of the story, Albus?"

"Nothing pressing for now, Charlus, I assure you." Dumbledore said. "But she needs to be kept safe. The safest place I know away from Hogwarts is Potter Estate."

Charlus nodded. "I'll accept that for now, but I expect the full story in due course, Albus."

"Of course, my friend." Dumbledore said, standing. The men shook hands. "Thank you for doing this."

"Anything to help the cause." Charlus said with a trademark Potter grin. Mischief flickered in those hazel eyes as Charlus brushed a hand through the messy hair, also a trademark of his blood. Dumbledore nodded and followed the man to the door. "Dorea will be pleased for a female in the house, I think."

"You have my thanks, regardless of the reason." Dumbledore said, stepping out the door. "I'll send word when she's woken up."

"Goodbye, Albus."


	3. Familia in Tempore

A/n: I was actually really surprised at the response I got for this right off the bat. I know that these things are generally a token effort on the part of the writer, and it's nice to be counted among one of the good ones. so thanks for that

D/c: Harry Potter and all related properties are all owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brothers Studio. I just have my fun with it.

Chapter 2 - Familia in Tempore (Family in Time)

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

June 27th, 1973

Hermione groaned as she slowly drifted awake. She didn't really remember what it felt like to be 13, but she imagined it must have been something like she was feeling now. She felt gangly, awkward and unwieldly, generally uncomfortable in her own skin. She knew part of that was the awareness that her age, her physiological and psychological make up had been dialed back to her 13 year old self. It still caused discomfort. Her center of gravity had changed, and her hair had returned to its halo-of-frizz state. She'd lost all definable figure, as she'd been a late bloomer and well into 15 before her curves, such as they were, had made themselves known.

The universe must truly hate her.

Madam Pomfrey bustled up with a bright smile and a tray full of potions. "Good Morning, Dear, how are you feeling?"

"Thirteen." Hermione quipped. She frowned at the slur in her speech and it dawned on her. Her front teeth. "Sweet hell."

"What is it?" Pomfrey asked.

Hermione sighed. "My teeth didn't get corrected until I was 14, is all." She was far from pleased at the prospect of having to deal with that until she was able to do magic again.

Madam Pomfrey made a dismissive noise. "If that's your biggest problem, my dear, then we're in good shape. It's also an easily corrected problem."

Hermione smiled. "I would be very grateful if you would be so kind…"

* * *

Once Madam Pomfrey's exam was finished, she'd downed a half dozen general health potions that the Matron had insisted on feeding her, and her teeth were fixed once more, Hermione was finally allowed to get dressed, only for Madam Pomfrey to escort her to the Headmaster's office. The password hadn't even been given when the Stone Gargoyle stepped aside and allowed them to pass.

What caught Hermione's attention right off was the self-satisfied twinkle in Dumbledore's eye. He had a small smile of amusement also permanently affixed to his face. She didn't like it. She turned her attention to the other two adults in the room and she realized why. There stood a man that could pass for a brown-haired version of her best friend with hazel eyes, and a black-haired woman with vibrant blue eyes.

They couldn't possibly be …

Hermione's head snapped back around to face Dumbledore. "You didn't…"

"I did." Dumbledore said, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. "This is Charlus and Dorea Potter. They've agreed to be your guardians."

Hermione took a deep breath and held back on glaring outright at the old wizard. He thought he was so damn clever, moving all of his chess pieces into place where he needed them. Little did he know, she planned to thwart a good deal of his moves. She turned, instead, to the Potters, and smiled. "I can't being to tell you how grateful I am to you. How much has the Headmaster told you of where I'm from?"

"Enough." Charlus said. "Nothing that will get any of us in major trouble, and absolutely no specifics."

Hermione nodded. "I see. Thank you."

Dumbledore coughed, drawing their attention. "There are just a few more details, Miss Granger. As of now, you are a war-orphaned muggleborn that the Potters have graciously agreed to house. The story is that your parents were uncomfortable with the idea of you going to a boarding school for magic and allowed you to study Theory through correspondence courses around your studies in Muggle School. You'll be required to take a series of aptitude tests sometime in July before you're officially accepted into the school full time. As far as the Ministry and St. Mungo's is concerned, you're simply a very lucky orphan."

"So the Healer that came to check me over for the Age Less?" Hermione asked.

"Arthur has taken care of having the necessary memory modifications ordered. They were carried out over the last two days, while you slept. It's all part of his duty. Even his own memory was modified. The only ones who know, are Poppy, Myself, and Charlus and Dorea. Poppy's memory will be dealt with once you've left." Dumbledore informed her. "Ordinarily, everyone, including the Traveler's memories would be modified. However, your case isn't ordinary."

Hermione snorted. "It amazes me that there's a precedent for this, and protocols in place."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and folded his fingers over his middle. "You're not the first time traveler, Miss Granger. I sincerely doubt you'll be the last."

Hermione nodded and turned to the Potters. "Shall we, then?"

The Potters smiled and motioned for the fire place. Hermione took the handful of Floo Powder offered and gave them both a curious look.

"Potter Estate." Dorea told her, smiling.

Hermione tossed the concoction into the flames and stepped in. "Potter Estate." She called out, and was dragged away into the vortex of flame.

* * *

Hermione's arrival at Potter estate had been uneventful and capped off with a grand tour of the sprawling Victorian manor-home. She'd been very impressed with how economically the Potters lived, in spite of their great wealth. Charlus was a firm believer in not living ostentatiously. The only reason they still inhabited their home was because it was the family estate. Potters had been born there for centuries, and he saw no reason to change that. They lived comfortably, with three or four house elves to maintain the house, and three in the kitchens to assist Dorea (who loved to cook) with meal times.

Hermione was even more impressed to find that in spite of the fact that Blood Potters had been Gryffindors as far back as anyone could remember, the house didn't reflect that. Certainly, red was one of the dominant colors in the decorating scheme, but unlike Malfoy Manor, which was decorated in Silver, Black, Green, and snakes, Potter Estate opted for a House Neutral décor. Hermione thought it might be in deference to the fact that Potters married for love, and loved their spouses enough to ignore such childish things. Dorea had, Hermione learned, been a Slytherin, and Charlus' mother a Ravenclaw.

They were greatly ahead of their time, Hermione realized. A good deal of Wizarding Britain never grew past their own House affiliations, even in her time. That thought alone, made her smile.

Her bedroom was something out of a Victorian novel. Her four poster canopy bed sat against a pale yellow wall accented with brass fixtures and a natural wood border a third of the way up from the floor at the far end of the room. To the left was two large bay windows outfitted with sheer white drapes and gold tie-backs, again with brass fixtures. Between the two was a large, cherry, roll-top desk, outfitted with rolls of empty parchment, ink, and quills. Across the room was a large cherry wardrobe to match the bedframe and desk. All of the hardware was brass again, and while it wasn't open, Hermione was sure that it was full of self-sizing clothes in the latest style. Directly in front of the door to the room was a large, ornate, wood-mantled fire place with a large built in bookshelf to the right of it, and a small oblong cherry coffee table, matched with a lovely settee upholstered with a pale yellow and white floral pattern on a cherry wood frame, with brass hardware.

Dorea stood behind her with a bright smile. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's lovely." Hermione told her, taking in the bright space.

"Obviously I didn't know what your favorite color was," Dorea said, "and my boys are die-hard Gryffindors all day long so their rooms are screaming red and blinding gold. I never was a fan of any of the house colors, myself, but if you have a preference let me know. I have absolutely no problems with changing the color scheme."

Hermione smiled. "In that case, could we go lavender, rather than yellow? I have a weakness for shades of purple."

Dorea grinned broadly and flicked her wand a few times, giving a satisfied hum of approval as the colors changed themselves accordingly. "Spectacular." She said. "Now, why don't you take a few minutes to freshen up and then we'll head off to Diagon Alley. I'm sure you're going to go absolutely spare if you don't have your wand back soon, and I'm sure you'll want to get some things to add a personal touch to your room."

"That would be wonderful, thank you." Hermione said, smiling widely.

Dorea left and Hermione moved into the room, running her fingers over the varied surfaces and furniture. It was a lovely room indeed, much more so now with the purple instead of yellow. She threw open the wardrobe to have her suspicions confirmed, it was completely full of clothes. To the left of it was a door she hadn't seen before, which opened into a full ensuite bathroom, where the room's theme continued, with a sunken tub and a glass shower stall slash steam room.

She shook her head and made her way out of the room to find Dorea. She certainly was looking forward to getting her wand back, for all she prayed it was her own wand, and for the first time in her life was excited about the prospect of shopping. Sure, she was going to beg for books, but being able to put her own touch on a room like this was going to be nice.

* * *

Hermione spent two days with Dorea, decorating and getting to know the inner workings of Potter Estate. The two women got on fairly well, even if Hermione did get annoyed with the older woman's proclivity for forgetting Hermione had been 19 once. Hermione found herself reacting as she had when she was 13 the last time, which she had been told was the point. She spent a good deal of time with her personal library, which the Potters had no qualms stocking, and even more time in the Potter Family Library, which was stocked with books on every topic from muggle and wizarding fairy tales, to literature, to non-fiction of every sort. There were spell books that hadn't seen the light of day in a millennia and Hermione reveled in the chance to read them. Two days of wandering the stacks had found her a pile to last the whole summer.

The peace and quiet wasn't to last, however, as James Potter was due to arrive home from Remus Lupin's house with Sirius Black in tow. Hermione was nervous. She'd known Sirius as a man, aged and jaded by 12 years in Azkaban for a crime he hadn't committed, forced to relive his worst memories with maddening regularity. She had known him, though, and knew that all the most basic parts of his personality from his flirtatious manner to his loyal heart.

James Potter, on the other hand, was as real to her as the characters in fairy tales. Sure, she'd known and loved Harry Potter, but his parents were almost mythical to them. She'd stood at James and Lily Potter's grave stone and their sacrifice had almost overwhelmed her, but they were still abstract. Part of the story.

Yet, she was to meet them, to be James' adopted sister, for all intents and purposes. She would meet the Marauders in their heyday. See Snape and Lily as young students, just learning the truth of magic.

It was that thought that kept her awake, reading by the lamp light, on the night of June 28th.

On the morning of June 29th, Hermione dressed with more care than she'd willingly admit. What did one wear to meet a figure of history? A hero? He'd been made legend in her time, both by his sacrifice for his family, and by his deeds in school. Logically she knew that he was just a 13 year old boy, perhaps a bit more rambunctious than her own Potter had been, but that didn't stop the part of her brain that was squealing at the thought of meeting James freaking Potter.

Dorea arrived at her doorway with a bright grin. "Come down to the parlor, Sweet. The boys have just arrived home."

"Just coming." Hermione responded, taking a deep breath. "Relax, you fool." She murmured to herself. "He's just a boy, just like Harry had been." She really hoped it didn't take a mountain troll to become friends with James and Sirius. She didn't know if she could handle that again.

She stopped at the door of the parlor and had to remind herself that the head of messy black hair with its back to her was _not_ her best friend. The similarities between James and Harry were uncanny. Certainly James was a bit more filled out, and certainly a good deal healthier, but at a glance, the two were twins. The long haired boy beside him had the trademark grey eyes of the Black Family. Both turned slowly to see her as she entered the room, both struck silent by their new companion.

"Hello." Hermione said with a nervous wave. "I'm Hermione."

James recovered first and stepped into a sweeping bow with a flourish. "A pleasure to meet you, Hermione. I'm James Potter. This prat beside me is my other half, Sirius Black."

Said prat followed suit in a similarly flamboyant style, causing the brunette girl to giggle. Hermione covered her mouth in embarrassment, though she was still grinning.

"Jamie," Dorea cut in. "Hermione is our new ward. In essence, your new sister."

James' grin widened and he stepped forward and swept her into a bear hug, swinging her around before putting her back on the floor with a laugh. "I always wanted a sister."

Hermione tilted her head sideways and smirked. "You're likely getting more than you bargained for."

Dorea cleared her throat and the three teens took their seats as breakfast was served with their morning tea. James and Sirius didn't waste any time in regaling Hermione with some of their more grandiose exploits. Hermione expected Dorea, at least, to be appalled by the antics of her son and his friends, but she just seemed to take it all in with a serene grace that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Da Vinci painting.

It wasn't long before Hermione was relaxed and enjoying herself. The two Marauders reminded her so much of Harry and Ron that it was almost disconcerting.

Inevitably, James asked the million Galleon question. "So, Hermione, have you ever been flying?"

Hermione forced herself to remain relaxed as she regaled them with a tale of flying to France with her parents for a summer. Both boys looked absolutely horrified at the idea of a plane. These boys, whom she knew pulled off a multitude of dangerous stunts on a broomstick, were terrified for a flying cylinder. Even Dorea looked a little green at the though.

"How does it stay up?" James asked.

"I'm not sure." Hermione said honestly. "Something to do with air currents and such. I know the engines are built to keep them in the air. From what I understand, it's all based on how a bird flies, but it was a lot of fun."

"So Mum hasn't explained to you that we can actually fly on broomsticks?" James asked, grinning.

Hermione blinked at him. "Beg pardon?"

"We can." James said, grinning. "Mum, can we go out and show her? Please?"

Dorea frowned. "James, dear, why don't we wait until later this afternoon? Surely you and Sirius would like to get settled back in before you go racing off to the pitch."

"It's alright, Mrs. P." Sirius said, grinning broadly. "Mrs. L. made us play safe and quiet because she wasn't feeling well."

Dorea sighed and turned to Hermione. "How do you feel about it, Dear?"

Hermione bit her lip. She hated flying on a broom. She hated it with a passion because for all she knew that she was in control of the broom, she couldn't get over the fact that it would be so high up and if something happened to her, she could potentially die because of the fall. Harry's first Quidditch match had stayed with her, even knowing now that it was Quirrel cursing the broom. It simply made you too vulnerable for her to be comfortable, even after all she'd been through.

"I'll watch," Hermione said, looking more at Dorea and Charlus than the two boys, "But I don't think I'd feel comfortable actually flying a broom."

James frowned. "We'll fix that." He swore, standing and smacking Sirius in the shoulder to get him to follow. "Follow us."

Hermione bit back a whimpered and shot a pleading look at her guardians. Dorea stood with her and wrapped her hands firmly around Hermione's shoulders, fixing the boys with a stern look. "If Hermione doesn't feel comfortable getting on a broom just yet, then you're not going to make her. You have to remember, James, Sirius, she's been in the muggle world until this week, so it's all new to her. And you will not insist that she try it. You let her make that decision in her own time."

"Yes, Mum." The boys chorused.

Dorea nodded. "Now, if you'd like to show her that we can, indeed, fly on brooms. I have no problem with that, though I do wish you'd wait until after lunch."

Charlus stood as well, folding his hands behind his back. "Why don't we plan for lunch on the patio? The boys will be able to fly before and after the meal and Hermione can get started on that stack of books she's been making for the last couple days." He winked at her and Hermione smiled.

James and Sirius shared a long suffering look, Hermione realized because of Remus, who she'd heard had been just as bookish as she was at this age. They took the agreement and bolted for their rooms, presumably to get changed into something more suitable to flying. Hermione took the opportunity to head for the library and collect a pair of books that she was dying to sink into.

They arrived at the patio and Hermione settled into a wicker hanging egg chair, tucking one of her books into the side and tucking her legs up under herself and leaving her sandals on the concreate. The boys came out, brooms in hand, and giving her a bored look.

"I thought Dad was joking." James said, a little disappointed.

"Afraid not." Hermione replied, smirking. "I happen to like books. My old room was full of extra books I bought to learn about the Wizarding World."

"But you never read about flying or Quidditch?" Sirius asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I wanted to learn about the world itself. Sure the books mentioned Quidditch, but I just kinda passed over it because the books talked about it like the reader already knew what it was, and it didn't seem interesting enough at the time to dig further into it. It wasn't part of the curriculum."

The boys shared a look and nodded. "Well, we'll fix it." James said with a smile. "We promise, no pressure, but you haven't lived until you've flown, and Gryffindors have a lot of house pride."

Hermione gave him a bemused look. "Who says I'm going to be a Gryffindor, exactly?"

The boys shared a look and Sirius knelt down in front of her. He covered his hand in a staged whisper. "James has a sixth sense about these things. Two years of watching Sortings and he hasn't been wrong yet."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Is that right?" she turned her attention to James. "And just how do you tell?"

James grinned. "Magician's secret. C'mon, Sirius, I wanna be in the air before Mum and Dad get out here."

Hermione stared after them, watching as they kicked off with practiced ease. They had to be messing with her. No one could tell where a student would be until they'd tried on the Hat. The fact that he'd correctly guessed her house was beside the point.

Hermione sighed and settled in to read her book, disgruntled by this information. She was certain that they were messing with her.

They spent the morning outside, Hermione and Charlus buried in books, while James and Sirius flew around the backyard and Dorea worked on her knitting. Hermione was privately jealous of the older woman's skill, remembering her own foray onto the art. She made a mental note to ask for lessons in the near future. They ate lunch together, the boys asking question after question about Hermione's life as a muggle, and she answered them as best she could without giving anything away.

Hermione was honestly more surprised at how genuine they were in wanting to get to know her. James especially seemed determined to get to know her.

Night fell and Dorea ushered them all off to bed after dinner by candle light, also outside, and after insuring that James and Sirius couldn't get up to any mischief during the night, came to sit with Hermione.

"He really does see you as a sister already, you know." Dorea said, working on brushing out Hermione's hair. The older woman seemed determined to tame it. "James, I mean. I know he's always wanted a sibling but … well, Charlus and I were lucky to be blessed once. It's that way with most pureblood families, these days. It's all the in breeding. Cousins marrying cousins."

"It seems foolish." Hermione said.

"It is." Dorea agreed. "But there are so many that feel that to seek a partner with muggle blood would taint the line that … well, it's a silly notion. One I grew up with, unfortunately. It's something I work very hard to keep out of James' head, even though my family tries very hard to instill it. The Blacks are among the worst in this belief, I'm afraid."

"You were a Black?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Dorea smiled. "I was, and still am, to a degree. My oldest brother is Pollux black. His oldest, Walburga, is Sirius' mother."

"But Sirius doesn't consider you his aunt?" Hermione asked.

"He does, to a degree," Dorea said, working a tight braid into Hermione's hair, "but because of my marriage to Charlus, I don't get invited to many family functions, so he knows me better as James' Mum, even though he knows we're blood."

"How sad," Hermione murmured, looking at the older woman's reflection in the mirror. She was beautiful, regal, with her already greying hair and classically beautiful face.

"I agree," Dorea said. "The Black family words are _Toujours Pur Nero_ , which translates to 'Always Pure Black'. As long as you are Black, you are family. It's unfortunate that with this rising dark power that many of the family have come to read it as simply _Toujours Pur._ I know that Walburga and Bellatrix support this madman. I simply can't fathom that Narcissa will. Of course, poor Andromeda has already been blasted off the Tapestry for marrying that muggleborn of hers."

"You don't approve?" Hermione asked, a little offended.

"It's not that I don't approve, dear." Dorea said, folding her hands in her lap. "It's that I don't approve of the way she went about it. She refused to stand in front of the family. She and that Tonks slipped away and had a muggle ceremony with just his family. If she had insisted, stood up to her family, I would have backed her, and so would Cassiopeia, which meant so would Pollux. Unfortunately, that boy talked her into eloping. He was a coward, and not worthy of one of the Black blood."

"Would she have still been disowned?" Hermione asked.

"Not by the Patriarchs." Dorea said with a sniff. "Cygnus is a fool, and Walburga is mad, but Pollux and Arcturus are the ones who make final decisions right now. Until they die, nothing can officially be done without their consent. And it's Alphard that inherits, not Orion and not Walburga."

"Well, that's something at least." Hermione said, thinking about Sirius and Alphard's Disownments in just a few years' time. She would fix it. He deserved better than his lot in life. She went to bed that night making plans. She would get Dorea's help. She couldn't let Sirius suffer the way he had before. It wasn't in her.

* * *

A/n: Let me know what you think. I love hearing feedback from you guys, its what makes my writing better.


	4. Amici Tempore

A/n: Yeah, I know, I'm bad. I'm sorry. 2016 and 2017 have not been good years. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, this is the first time I've actually been able to sit down and really write for something that isn't my original novel. (which is a whole other kettle of worms.) Through all of the upheaval in the last couple of years I've moved out on my own, so I've got a lot more time to work on things. I'm hoping that this whole updating thing becomes a regular occurrence. I've never been particularly good at keeping a schedule, but my sincerest hope is that it's not another two years before the next chapter. I really am sorry about that.

D/c: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe is the property of Jo Rowling, Warner Bros Inc. and whoever else owns them. This plot, and anything not recognizable from the series proper, belongs to me.

Chapter Three: Amici Tempore (Friends in Time)

* * *

Hermione adjusted well to life with the two Marauders. Often, she found herself enjoying their childish antics in a way that she hadn't been able to when she was thirteen the first time around. It honestly shocked her to realize how much of her childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to Harry James Potter and his destiny. Here, now, she could be a kid. She was running, and laughing and playing and somehow, she still wasn't clear on, her new brother and his best friend had talked her into flying lessons, and by the end of the second week of July, she was actually and honestly proficient. She'd even come to enjoy it.

Between the playing and the flying, however, were her lessons with Dorea. Who was helping her to temper her skills in the most Slytherin manner. Things that Hermione had been doing nonverbally for years, she now had to stop and do the enchantment for. She needed to lay low, she understood. She couldn't make some great show of power. It would be a dead giveaway that something wasn't quite as she said it was.

Along with those lessons, were lessons in etiquette, pure-blood society, manners, comportment, and being a lady in general. Knitting, sewing, and music were all on the docket, and Hermione loathed every second of it. She knew it was necessary, of course, if she didn't want to give shame to her new family, but it was dry, and even when she was honestly interested in the lessons (as she was with the handicrafts and arts) Dorea was constantly correcting her into the most uncomfortable positions which were considered proper. It was like something out of an Austen novel, and it was killing her.

The third week of July broke, and several letters lay on the table Sunday morning as the five sat down to breakfast. Dorea went through them calmly. "Dumbledore's written, Hermione. It seems your aptitude tests are set for Tuesday. Are you ready for them?"

"As I'll ever be." Hermione said wryly.

"Excellent." Dorea nodded. "Lyall has written an answer to you boys, as well. Remus is unable to come to visit this week to meet your new sister, although he is greatly pleased for you, James. Unfortunately, he seems to have come down with a summer cold."

"Damn." James muttered under his breath.

"James Charlus Potter, I will scourgify that mouth if I hear it again." Dorea snapped, opening the last letter. She read silently before setting it down and dragging her husband out of the room.

"Well, that can't be good." Sirius said, frowning as he snatched up the letter. "Ah, yeah, not good."

"What's going on?" James asked.

"Pollux, Arcturus, and Callidora are calling a meeting of the House." Sirius said. "Regardless of affiliation, Status in the family, or condition, all members of the Three Branches living must attend at the Ancestral Home in Banchory. This will take place August 17th through August 19th." Sirius frowned. "Yikes."

"That's a bad thing?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said slowly, putting the letter back at Dorea's seat. "Some of the family isn't bad, The Third Branch was all females, so they married into other families. Callidora married a Longbottom, Cedrella a Weasley, and Charis a Crouch, but then you have people like my mum and my cousin Bellatrix who are absolutely barking. They think this Dark Lord has the right idea in cleansing all the muggleborns, which to anyone with an ounce of sense is absolutely mad, seeing as how the purebloods are so inbred. But they're calling everyone to the Castle Black for a full weekend, it looks like, so something big must be going on. They're even calling in the ones who've been disowned, like Dromeda and Cedrella. I wonder if Uncle Marius will be there."

"Unlikely." Dorea said, walking back in with Charlus. "Marius is a squib, and wouldn't be able to come through the wards. They want the spouses as well, which means Bellatrix and that Tonks in the same room, Merlin help us."

"A Pax charm would prevent any violence or undue harm." Hermione said offhandedly.

James and Sirius stared at her.

Hermione noticed and blinked. "What?"

"You need to get out of the library." James said in disgust.

Dorea smiled knowingly. "But she is right, and I'll write Pollux about it immediately. I've no idea why they'd be calling the House together at a time like this, and only a week before school term starts. It's unnerving. Which reminds me, Hermione, Charlus and I want to talk to you about a magical adoption. It would give you some protection in that setting."

Hermione sighed. "What would it entail."

"In this case we'd want to go with a full adoption." Charlus said. "I understand you have some pride in your muggle family, my dear, but it just puts you in danger; all the more around the Blacks. With a full adoption you'd be, on a genetic and magical level, our child, as well as your own parents. Any magical tests they run for your legitimacy would confirm you as our full blooded child."

Hermione frowned. "I understand why it's necessary, but can I think about it and do some research before I make a decision?"

Dorea and Charlus nodded. "You've reached the Age of Cognizance," Dorea said, "So the magic won't take unless you consent to it."

Hermione nodded as she finished her breakfast.

Hermione spent the rest of the morning with Dorea, locked in the ballroom, working out her frustrations.

"I'm surprised at the amount of magic I'm able to produce, to be honest." Hermione said, staring at the violently red floor. "The last time I was thirteen, I couldn't have done half so much."

"Well, the potion only alters you on a physiological and hormonal level." Dorea said, from her comfortable chair in the corner. "Your soul, and thus the core of your magic, is still nineteen. A very powerful nineteen, I'd say. You've spent quite some time exercising your magic."

"It came with chasing Harry around year after year." Hermione said wistfully. "By the time we'd reached our sixth year, we were always getting into some kind of trouble, and as the boys were absolutely useless at research it always came down to me to have the answers and the magic. Poor Harry was an above average wizard from the get go, once he got the hang of something, but …" Hermione stopped and turned to see Dorea listening intently. "Well, he never quite lived up to his potential."

"I wonder why that is." Dorea said, frowning. "James is a troublemaker, for sure, but he studies well, and gets good grades."

"If I fail my mission, James won't live to see the end of the war." Hermione said softly. "Neither will Harry's mother. They won't be the ones to raise him. Her muggle family will be." Hermione's eyes misted over as tears sprang to them. "They'll abuse him, starve him. He never complained about it, but Ron and I could tell something was wrong. Even more so, now that I've seen James. He was so skinny, Dorea. It had to have an effect on his magic, as well as his body. Is it possible to snuff out a magical core with mistreatment? I think that was the plan."

"It's possible." Dorea said, calmly, though her rage was boiling. "It's part of why young witches and wizards are taken at eleven. It takes a long time, but it can be done. You won't fail your mission, Hermione. I can see it in your eyes that you won't let yourself fail. For his sake."

Hermione nodded, wiping her eyes. "Its why I didn't kill myself immediately." Hermione said. "Even with everything I know about the future, I can't guarantee that I'm not making everything worse. I know how horrible that sounds, a world where this madman reigns supreme, and muggleborns are kept for breeding stock alone, and muggles are less than cattle, but it could be worse…"

"It can always be worse." Dorea said. "But you know the steps that need to be taken to make it better, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "It begins with stopping this madman in his tracks. Rounding up his followers, discerning the willing from the coerced, and putting the willing away. Protecting the innocents. Keeping families, and lineages, and Houses from being destroyed."

She paused and absentmindedly returned the floor to its former glory. "Hypothetically, if part of your soul were to be torn away and destroyed, would it diminish your magic?"

"In theory." Dorea said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"The whole reason I came back here was to find five magical artifacts that, once destroyed, would make Him mortal." Hermione said, as if in a daze. "We were so close. We only had two left to destroy, but we were found out and we failed. I know what they are, I know who has them, and I know how to destroy them, but Dumbledore says I have to wait until I've graduated." She gave a derisive snort. "As they weren't all made yet."

"You're certain they are?" Dorea said.

"Absolutely, I am. I've studied this so much and so hard that I can tell you who he killed to make each of them." Hermione said. "We need to move fast, or so many will die in the next eight years that it will devastate the population of Wizarding Brittan for generations. I'm in such a perfect position to fix it all."

Dorea's blood ran cold. "Tell me."

"The Diary from his school days, given to Lucius Malfoy," Hermione said. "The Ring, secreted away in a shack in Little Hangleton, where the Gaunts once lived. The locket, found in the possession of a woman named Hepziba Smith and hidden in a seaside cave where his orphanage used to take the kids to play. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff, found with the locket, and given into the care of Bellatrix Black. Lastly, The Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw hidden in the room of lost things." Hermione frowned. "That one, at least, is safe enough at Hogwarts."

Dorea gave a wicked smirk. "And I can get you two of the others." She said, "Provided, of course, they've been handed into the care of those you say."

"I think that's why Dumbledore wants me to wait." Hermione sighed. "We have no way of knowing for certain that the Diary has been placed. I know for a fact the locket hasn't yet. It's placement results in the death of Regulus Black. The Cup I know for certain is in the Black Vaults. My informant told me it'll be there until Bellatrix marries Rodolphus."

Dorea sighed. "I can get you the cup, at least. Pollux will have kittens when he finds out. He has no patience for Bellatrix's Master." She frowned deeply. "It concerns me that you say the locket will cause the death of my nephew. How?"

"Regulus will join the Death Eaters when Sirius is disowned at sixteen." Hermione sighed, conjuring a chair to sit in. "He'll be eager, and Voldemort will ask for a house elf to test its defenses. Regulus will volunteer Kreacher for the task with specific orders to return once the task is done. When Regulus finds out what happened to Kreacher, he'll demand to be taken to the cave and Drink the potion that distorts the mind himself, unwilling to subject Kreacher to it again, and give the locket to Kreacher to destroy while he's swallowed by a lake of Infiri. It'll be in Grimmauld Place after that."

"But if we can convince Regulus to seek help before he goes after the Locket himself, he can be saved." Dorea said.

"Yes, but someone must drink the potion, and this doesn't take place until 1979." Hermione said. "Besides, it's all cause and effect. If Sirius doesn't get disowned, and I refuse to let that happen, then Regulus may not join the Death Eaters right away."

"Why does Sirius get disowned?" Dorea asked.

"For refusing." Hermione answered.

Dorea nodded. "I assume Charlus and I took him in?"

"Naturally." Hermione said with a wry smile.

They sat in silence for a long while, both thinking over the conversation. Dorea got up and paced around the room, thinking hard as she glided across the floor.

"I don't know about this sea-side cave, but I recall my mother speaking on the fall of the Gaunt family, more as a cautionary tale, I think, but I remember she told me of Marvolo, Merope, and Morfin. Marvolo and Morfin went to Azkaban on the charge of cursing muggles. Morfin was sent away for murdering some land owners in the county, I believe. Merope, she said, dropped off the face of the world. The family had, of course, lost their fortune long ago, but the family was still proud and pure as any, a direct line from Salazar Slytherin himself, as the story goes. Little Hangleton … I know of the place. Yes, though I dare say there'll be curses and such to protect the object." Dorea tilted her head and paused in front of Hermione. "Cassiopeia is the most experienced of us in the Dark Arts. The Black Libraries are extensive, and she's read them all, I dare say. It's all academic for her, but she was a curse breaker for a long time in her youth. Some forty years. She'd be able to get through whatever traps and spells he has in place…"

"Do you mean to bring the whole Black family into the affair?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Dorea's eyes lit up. "Dear brilliant girl, of course not. Bellatrix is his right hand, of course. My siblings, however, have no love for him and are very trustworthy. I've claimed you, and so will they. It'll get us a start on what we need. If you're right, and they're vessels for the soul, then we'll want to destroy them all at once. Narcissa will give us access to the diary, somehow, and Regulus to the locket."

Hermione smirked. "And the Blacks take the credit for ending the Dark Lord. They'll have to renounce Bellatrix."

Dorea smirked. "Dear girl, I've been bitching to Pollux for months on that very subject. It's not right for a Black to bend the knee to anyone. She and that fiancée of her are absolutely ridiculous about it. I don't know what Cygnus was thinking of. Of course, now she's trying to drag and upstanding young man like Lucius into it. Ugh."

"Upstanding?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"Surely you didn't think the man completely heartless?" Dorea asked.

Hermione cocked her head. "Considering I'd been chained to the floor and tortured in his drawing room and he did nothing to stop it, Yes."

Dorea sighed. "A coward, certainly," She murmured, "But he's not heartless. He dotes on Narcissa. Loves her truly. That is a love match, Hermione, make no mistake. I'm familiar with Abraxas Malfoy and while the family is rather dark, Abraxas is no fool. He'll go where the power is."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose the way he spoiled his son rotten would be an indication that he cares, at the very least, for his bloodline."

"As we all do." Dorea said with a laugh. "He also cares for the magical community, however. Malfoys are not fools. Anyone with sense can realize that if purebloods continue to interbreed the way we have been for the last century, we'll soon become like the Gaunts. Inbred and stupid with it. We'll wipe ourselves out before long. Most purebloods find halfbloods to be acceptable, but the only way for that to happen are for muggleborns to marry into society. Besides, the Ministry defines a pure lineage as one with at least seven generations of magical blood marrying magical blood. In the old days, before purebloods were so conceited and prideful, muggleborns were considered budding lineages. New lines Houses in the making. I think we need to bring that though back to fruition, don't you?"

Hermione contemplated this for a while. "I think so." She said with a smile.

Dorea nodded. "I quite agree, and what better way to start than by toppling a madman with no common sense?"

Hermione laughed and went back to her training.

* * *

Hermione passed her exams with flying colors. Not wanting to draw more attention to Hermione, the grades were issued, informally, within the hour, and Dumbledore had Hermione put on the Sorting Hat to identify her house. Naturally, she was placed in Gryffindor, although the Hat had decided to be rather chatty and informed Hermione that he was only putting her there because Dumbledore had asked it of him for her safety. Had it been more than a formality, he would have placed her in Slytherin with no hesitation.

Hermione and Dorea came out of the Floo into Potter Manor with Hermione positively fuming.

"Meddling old bastard." She snarled as she pulled off her traveling cloak.

"Language, my dear." Dorea reprimanded gently, not understanding the girl's ire.

"I'm sorry." Hermione sighed, explaining what the Hat had said. "He thinks that he can just move us around like pieces on a chess board without all of the information and it's wrong. He doesn't seem to care about the people he's putting at risk as long as his objectives are achieved _for the greater bloody good_. It's maddeningly infuriating. These are people, lives, and he spends them like they're sickles."

"That's hardly fair, Hermione." Dorea said as they made their way to the parlor for tea. "Dumbledore knows the cost of everything he does, every decision he makes, and I can assure that the it weighs on his conscience every minute."

"Does it?" Hermione asked. "My first year he brought the Philosopher's Stone into the school and hid it within the Mirror of Erised, knowing that a broken Dark Lord was looking for it. Instead of burying it in the lake or forest, he sets it behind a maze of traps that three first years were able to break and get through, let alone a fully qualified wizard."

Dorea looked appalled. "Surely not."

"As one of the first years that did it, I can assure you that he did. My second year, the Diary was slipped into the hands of a first-year girl, by your upstanding Lucius, and possessed the girl, causing her to open the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore, instead of mounting a search for the Chamber, or sending the students to a safer location until the monster could be dealt with, allowed himself to be removed from the school for lack of action by a blackmailed Board of Governors, coincidentally also blackmailed by Lucius Malfoy, and Harry was the only one brave enough to find the Chamber, and slay the monster inside. Which is a Basilisk, by the way. I'm going to have to find a way to deal with that before something goes horribly wrong and it gets loose." Hermione snorted. "I've no doubt that Dumbledore's intentions are good, Dorea, but the simple fact of the matter is that he has no real concept of what he's doing. I'm sure given the opportunity, he'd try to do with Voldemort what he did with Grindewald, and sent him to a prison, but it simply won't work. Voldemort's most loyal followers are both fanatical and mad. They would seek him out and restore him to power. It's what they did when the world thought him dead, it's what they'll do if he's simply locked in prison."

Dorea sighed as they stopped outside the Parlor door. "And you mean not to be a chess piece?"

"Absolutely not." Hermione said, sniffing. "It just so happens that being in Gryffindor suits my purposes."

Dorea laughed and led the way in to a congratulatory tea for Hermione's success.

* * *

A week later found Sirius summoned home and the Potters walking through Diagon Alley shopping for school supplies. Dorea refused to leave it to the last minute, especially with the House of Black meeting in just a couple of weeks. Hermione had her arm tucked through James's elbow as he led her along behind his parents.

"Alright, children, books or robes next?" Dorea asked, smiling at them.

"Books." Hermione said.

"For once I actually agree with you." James laughed. "We may run into Remus there and I'll finally get to introduce you."

Hermione shook her head. "We'll see him on the train, James. It's not like the world is going to end if I don't meet your friends before school starts. Besides, I'm hoping to make a few of my own, as well."

The quartet of Potters headed towards Flourish and Blott's as the two teens bickered about who Hermione should and shouldn't be friends with. They were laughing as they stepped into the store and were met with a sallow looking boy with a hooked nose and dark, limp black hair, and a pretty girl with waist length red hair and a pair of emerald green eyes that cut through Hermione like a knife. Harry's eyes.

Lily Evans.

Hermione's gazed darted between the Lily and the boy she was with and it dawned on her who it was. Severus Snape, her future Potions professor. She'd know from Harry that he'd gone to school with the Marauders, and Hermione grasped just how volatile the situation she'd just stepped into was. A glance told her that the adult Potters were outside talking to some acquaintance that had stopped them in the street, meaning this could get ugly fast.

"Potter." Lily sneered, looking Hermione up and down. "Who's this, flavor of the week?"

"You and Snivellus can piss off, Evans." James said. "Come on, Maya, lets start getting our books."

"Sure." Hermione said, turning to walk down one of the aisles, more than a little confused at the hostility on James's end. Wasn't he supposed to be desperately in love with her?

Hermione turned back to him in time to see Snape draw his wand. She didn't think, only reacted, throwing herself at James, causing them to fall down the opposite aisle and out of the line of fire. She tried to pull him up so they could run, her body running on pure instinct, but James didn't move. He only held her, stroking her hair, and whispering to her that she was safe, and that Snivellus couldn't do magic outside school.

James looked up as Lily appeared around the corner and he glared. "Why don't you and the grease ball finish what you're doing and leave us alone, would you? Stupid git."

Lily was stunned to see the gentle way that James was guarding the girl in his arms, keeping her face pressed into his collar bone so nothing else made it worse.

"Sorry." Lily said, darting away.

James turned back to Hermione and kissed the side of her head. "It's alright, Maya. He can't curse me. He can't curse you. We're safe." He sat up and pulled her into his lap, rocking her slowly as she started to cry.

"I'm sorry, James." Hermione said. "I don't know what happened. I just saw the wand and reacted."

"Its okay." James said. "Mum worried something like this might happen. She called it … Shell Shock? Trauma from the attack making you react like this."

Hermione giggled a little. "I supposed I should have expected it too." She rested her head on her shoulder. "I'm still sorry. I'm sure that landing hurt a bit."

"I've had worse falling of my broom." James said with a shrug of his unoccupied shoulder.

They looked up as Dorea appeared. "What happened?" She demanded.

"Ran in to a couple of my classmates." James said. "Neither of them particularly like me, and one of them drew a wand. Hermione tackled me out of the line of fire and had a panic attack, Mum."

Hermione looked up at Dorea and knew they would be having a long conversation about this once they were home and the trunks were packed.

"Are you both alright?" Dorea asked gently.

Hermione nodded and so did James, both of them standing from the floor and dusting themselves off.

"I'm embarrassed more than anything." Hermione said. "I'm far too rational to be behaving like a panicked child."

Dorea shook her head. "Don't be, dear. We'll get this taken care of. For now, lets finish up here and head home. I'm getting rather tired of being out in public."

"Guess it's a good thing you only have to do it once a year, huh, Mum?" James asked cheekily.

Dorea shook her head as they made their way through the shelves, pulling out two copies of all the year's book requirements. Hermione looked over the Defense Against the Dark Arts book and frowned. It was a defensive theory book, which didn't bode well in her experience. She leaved through it as they walked and smiled. Ok, so it wasn't Defensive Magical Theory by that Slinkard cow, and it was extremely informative. It was also not the only book requirement for the class. There was a practical sister book they had to get as well. They had the usual suspects for Herbology, Astronomy, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. Hermione had only allowed herself the usual two options for new classes. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She would not be dealing with that time turner bullshit all over again. Nor would she subject herself to Professor Kettleburn, who routinely had students coming out of the forest injured. Nor would she subject herself to the ridiculousness that was Divination. She didn't care if Trelawney was a real seer.

She frowned. Was Trelawney even at the school yet? She'd have to asked Dumbledore.

James, she was unsurprised to hear, wanted to be an Auror if the international Quidditch Star dream didn't pan out. Because of this he was taking both Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures.

"Never know what an Auror will come up against." He'd said. "Could be a dragon, could be some arsehole behind serious wards. Best to have a working knowledge of everything I can, Right?"

It was surprisingly forward thinking. Hermione wondered just how much being abused by the Dursley's for 10 years had stunted Harry's mental and magical growth. He was almost nothing like his father.

Once they were done with their books, they were off to Madam Malkin's for their new robes. James only took a few minutes, but Hermione needed a full wardrobe so she had to stand there for measurements for a while. When they were done, and their robes packed away with the rest of their supplies, they headed back out into the street."

"Is there anything else we need before we head home?" Charlus asked Dorea.

Dorea checked her list. "I don't think so."

James cleared his throat. "Dad, you made a promise."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up as Charlus and James studied each other.

"I did." Charlus said. "Come on then. Eylops or Magical Menagerie?"

"Charlus." Dorea said, nodding pointedly at Hermione.

Charlus nodded. "Sorry, Hermione. I promised James that he could buy a familiar once he reached third year. The same applies to you, of course, if you want one."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Charlus nodded. "Of course."

"I want an owl." James said, pointing to Eylops Owl Emporium.

"Hermione?" Dorea asked.

"Can I get a cat?" She asked, missing Crookshanks. She had no idea what had become of her beloved cat. She'd left him at the Weasley's when they'd made their escape to hunt Horcruxes.

"Of course, love." Charlus said, smiling. "Why don't I take James to get his owl, while you and your mother go pick out a cat?"

"Sounds lovely." Dorea said. "We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron in thirty minutes."

Hermione and Dorea headed in the direction of Magical Menagerie, Hermione grinning widely. "Why did James have to wait until Third Year?" She asked Dorea.

"Because he was no where near mature enough to take care of one before." Dorea said. "Besides that, you'll have to get the food and treats in Hogsmead, which you'll both have permission for."

"I thought the school fed all of the owls." Hermione said.

"Heavens no." Dorea said. "Familiars are the responsibility of their companion. Whatever cat you get will be fed and cared for by you. I would suggest getting one that's part kneazle. At least then it's intelligent enough to allow you to trim its fur and nails without fighting."

"That was the plan." Hermione said, laughing. They stepped into the store and looked around, Hermione immediately making her way to the pen full of kittens rolling and tumbling around. All except for one. In the corner, curled into a ball, was a fluffy orange, angry looking kitten with a squashed face and a bottle-brush tail. Hermione's eyes widened as they filled with tears. How was a cat able to live twenty-five years and still be young and healthy?

Dorea walked over. "Oh, they're part Kneazle, Hermione. They are highly intelligent. Much like Dolphins. They also live much longer than the average cat."

"Quite right you are, Madam." Said a man, walking over. "Part Kneazles, like these little guys are, live on average fifty years and make excellent companions for witches and wizards alike. They're very good and loyal if they bond with you, and can even sense distrustful people and spot the difference between an animal and an Animagus."

Hermione wasn't paying any attention. The little orange one was staring at her expectantly. His tail flicked as he stood and stretched before walking over and leaping lightly onto the little hutch they were given to sleep in. He wrapped his tail around his paws and stared at her with a bored expression. She knew it well. He wanted out of this pen and he wanted it now. She reached down to pick him up, cradling him in her arms gently. "Its good to see you again, Crooks." She whispered too him.

He purred loudly as he made himself comfortable in the crook of her arm.

"It seems someone's made a decision." The salesman said, a little perplexed. "I'm honestly surprised. He's attacked anyone who's tried to take him home. We thought we were going to have him forever."

"Certainly not." Hermione said. "He was waiting for me, after all. How old is he?"

"Six months." The Salesman told her as they made their way to the register. Hermione picked out a basket, blanket, some food, treats, and toys as they went. "He's a bit temperamental. He never played with the other kittens, didn't like being handled, and refused to go home with anyone."

"Crookshanks is far to dignified for play tumbling." Hermione said, smirking. "When he's hunting, its for a purpose." She felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought of him chasing Pettigrew around for a year trying to get him for Sirius. "And as I said, he's been waiting for me."

Dorea smirked proudly as Hermione signed all the necessary paperwork for ownership of even a part kneazle, fitting him with a lovely black collar for his license. Once Crookshanks was comfortably tucked away in his blanket lined basked, Hermione took the bag holding all of her other supplies, which ended up including food dishes as well.

"I'm glad he found his home." The Salesman said. "The breeder was concerned about him too. I'll be glad to tell her that she's got nothing to worry about. What did you call him? Crookshanks?"

"That's right." Hermione said.

"A good name for him." The man said. "We hope to see you again in the future."

Dorea and Hermione left and Dorea looked down at Hermione, who was walking a little straighter, and much lighter. "He was yours before?"

"I was a Third Year then, too." Hermione said. "My friend's pet rat was sick." She decided to edit this particular story because she would be fixing the Pettigrew related issues. "He went in to get a tonic for him and Crooks came to me. Decided I was going to be his companion. He's part cat as well, but the larger part is Kneazle. He's smarter than the ones that are half and half. Much more dignified."

"He'll be a good companion for you." Dorea said.

And useful, Hermione agreed mentally. They met up with James and Charlus at the Leaky Cauldron, as planned, and had a late Lunch while James was introduced to Crookshanks, and Hermione was introduced to Andros the Invincible, James's Long Eared Owl. Crookshanks leapt out of his basket and sat in James' lap, staring at him. Eventually, he reared up and placed his paws on James's chest and rubbed against him, cheek to cheek, before moving to curl up contentedly on Hermione's lap. James stared in shock for a moment.

"What just happened?" James asked.

"He's marked you as his." Hermione said, stroking the soft, unmated fur. "Cats and Kneazles have scent glands in their cheeks that allow them to mark others as family, which is different than marking territory. He's accepted that you're my brother."

James stared at her for a long minute. "What more do I have to do to get you out of the library?"

"It'll never happen." Hermione said. "I happen to like learning things, and just because you keep me out of the family library with all your flying, and pranking and playing, doesn't mean you can ever keep me from my own personal library."

James shook his head in disgust. "You and Remus, I swear to Merlin, are two peas in a pod. I got almost that exact same speech last summer when he was over for a couple weeks."

Hermione nodded. "Bookworm code. We read a lot, and if you come between us and our books, or a fellow bookworm and their books, retribution will be swift and painful."

"And she has the brains to do it, too." Charlus said proudly. "Speaking for brains. Hermione, I don't want to pressure you, but if we're going to do any kind of adoption ritual, I need to know soon. The next full moon is two days before we have to go to the Black Ancestral Home, and it'll be our only chance before you return to school."

Hermione nodded. "I've been wrestling with this, because it is such a big decision, but I think you're right in that it will be more protection for myself and for everyone around me. So my answer is yes. I will gladly become your daughter."

James whooped and pulled her into a tight hug, unseating and irritating Crookshanks, who simply leapt into his basket with an annoyed growl. Hermione hugged James back and took a deep breath. This was her home now. She was going to rebuild her family here, she was going to take down a madman, and she was going to give her best friend the life he deserved.

Failure was no longer an option.

* * *

A/n: Like I said above, I'm going to try to dedicate some time to this. Its my only active fic at the moment, so unless something monumental happens with my original, any writing efforts are going to be spent here. We'll see how it goes.

Leggy Freak003


End file.
